


Icarus

by oisugasuga



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Biting, Friends With Benefits, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Marking, Slight Begging?, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 01:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16170587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oisugasuga/pseuds/oisugasuga
Summary: Oikawa leans over him, settled on elbows that dip into the mattress on either side of Akaashi’s head. His eyes burn over Akaashi’s bare skin — solar flares that Akaashi can’t seem to avoid no matter how many times he’s been warned for flying too close to the sun.





	Icarus

_"Tooru."_  
  
    The name slips from Akaashi’s mouth on a broken breath, two syllables that end in a whine, two syllables that he’s uttered more times than he can count now — and he hates it.  
  
    Well… not _hates_ so much as he’s irritated at how needy he sounds, frustrated with how easy it had been for him to wind up here again.  
  
    And by here he means _here_ — tangled up in none other than Oikawa Tooru’s sheets, splayed out and open and vulnerable to dark eyes and a satisfied little smirk that sets Akaashi’s blood on fire every single time.  
  
    "Yes, _Keiji_?"  
  
    Oikawa leans over him, settled on elbows that dip into the mattress on either side of Akaashi’s head. His eyes burn over Akaashi’s bare skin — solar flares that Akaashi can’t seem to avoid no matter how many times he’s been warned for flying too close to the sun.  
  
    "Fuck," Akaashi hisses out as Oikawa shifts, already seated deep inside him. The tiny little motion sends shockwaves up Akaashi’s spine. He jerks his wrists against where Oikawa has both of them pressed down into the mattress with one hand above Akaashi’s head, bites his tongue, tries to keep the words that are welling up in the back of his throat down.  
  
    "Mm, I don’t think that’s what you wanted to tell me," Oikawa hums, lowering his head to kiss the words into Akaashi’s heated skin. His lips are soft, familiar, flutter over Akaashi’s thundering pulse in his throat.  
  
    Akaashi squeezes his eyes shut, tries to roll his own hips to get some kind of movement — but Oikawa has him thoroughly pinned down to the bed.  
  
    "Come on Keiji, tell me what you want," the other purrs, voice low, dripping saccharine in the dimness of the bedroom.  
  
     _"God,"_ Akaashi thinks. He wonders how long he can hold out before voicing his thoughts — before he succumbs to begging.  
  
    Oikawa smells faintly of cherries, like the kind you’d find in those flavored cigarettes. The thing is, Akaashi doesn’t even know if Oikawa smokes — in fact, he knows very little about a guy he’s been letting fuck him for the past six months.  
  
    He knows what Oikawa smells like, knows his voice. He knows that some days — when it’s raining outside — Oikawa won’t answer his calls, will just text him something vague about meeting up another day. He knows they’re taking the same math class even though he doesn’t know Oikawa’s major, and he knows that Oikawa has a tattoo.  
  
    But apart from that, Akaashi holds very few pieces of the picture — nothing more than the same white sheets, the pile of textbooks in the corner, the dying plant on the kitchen countertop.  
  
    Teeth sink into Akaashi’s shoulder, jar him from the tongue-tied torture he’s in — Oikawa balls-deep inside him but still not moving. He jerks at the sting, blood rushing to his head at Oikawa’s sudden bite, moans loud and unabashed when a hot tongue laves over the spot seconds later and he feels himself tighten around Oikawa’s cock.  
  
    "Feel good, baby?" Oikawa purrs, breath hitching as it washes hot over Akaashi’s skin. "Want me to do it again?"  
  
    Akaashi groans, his bangs falling into his eyes, breath short in his lungs. "I want you to fuck me," he gets out finally, staring at the side of Oikawa’s face, at the edge of a jaw and the flutter of eyelashes that he’s gotten to know so well — the same side profile he’s started seeing in his dreams even though it terrifies him.  
  
    He watches that same mouth curve a little at his words, small but pleased.  
  
    He waits with his pulse thudding through his ears and Oikawa’s skin warm and sticky against his. Sometimes Oikawa likes to make him beg. Sometimes he gives Akaashi exactly what he wants exactly when he wants it.  
  
    Most of the time Akaashi is in control — except for nights like this one. And most of the time, he can never tell which way Oikawa is going to make him bend, which way he’s decided to break him — especially on nights like this one.  
  
    Until Oikawa leans back up, hovers over him, still perfectly still — making Akaashi wait.  
  
    "How about an exchange?"  
  
    Akaashi blinks. Every muscle in his body is tensed and he’s painfully aware of how full he is, of how painfully hard his own cock is against his stomach, of how his skin feels like it’s on fire and sweat is trickling down the back of his neck.  
  
    "What kind of exchange?" he breathes, trying not to whine again, wrists still caught in Oikawa’s firm grip. His pulse races there, beneath Oikawa’s fingertips, and he knows the other can feel it, that he enjoys it, how desperate he can make him.  
  
    Oikawa licks his lips and then rolls his hips lightly — just enough for Akaashi to feel Oikawa pull back a fraction and then slide all of the way back in. Just enough to tease, to get Akaashi’s cock to twitch between them, leaking pre-cum all over their stomachs.  
  
    "Oikawa," Akaashi growls warningly, flushed down the entire length of his body, need itching at every inch of his skin.  
  
    Oikawa grins, licks his lips again, dark eyes raking over Akaashi’s face. He flexes the fingers of the hand that has Akaashi’s wrists held tight, readjusting.  
  
    "I’ll fuck you as hard and fast as you want, Kei," he finally speaks. The streetlights filtering in through thin curtains paint his eyelashes in gilt, frame the angles of his face in silver. Akaashi sees those angles in class, sometimes sees them when he’s at his favorite coffee shop and Oikawa strolls in nonchalantly, has traced them with his fingertips.  
  
    "But you’ll agree to let me mark you, wherever and however much I want to."  
  
    Akaashi’s thoughts are broken, his eyes flickering back up to Oikawa’s gaze.  
  
    "That’s -," he begins, still breathless, still aching.  
  
    "Against our rules," Oikawa finishes, grin softening into something more like a regretful smile. "Yeah, I know."  
  
    Akaashi doesn’t say anything, just lies still and studies the other’s face, feels the heat and weight of Oikawa seep farther into him, inch by inch — unstoppable, flying this close to the sun.  
  
    "If you don’t agree, it’s okay. I’ll give you what you want anyway," Oikawa continues, eyes steady on Akaashi’s face — open and serious. "But I wanted to let you know that it’s something I want — something I’ve wanted for a long time, if you’re okay with it. To mark you, show everyone else that -"  
  
    Oikawa stops, closing his mouth suddenly as if he’s just realized what he’s saying.  
  
    Akaashi’s heart beats against his ribcage like something begging to be let loose. He can’t help but stare — the same words keep playing over and over in the silence.  
  
     _"To mark you, show everyone else that -"_  
  
    He wants Oikawa to finish that sentence but he knows the other won’t just by looking at his face — not tonight anyway.  
  
    So instead, Akaashi holds onto the little pieces of it that he has — waits patiently for the day he’ll have the rest of it.  
  
    "Okay," he says.  
  
    Oikawa’s eyes widen — not enough that it would be noticed by anyone else, but Akaashi sees it.  
  
    "But Tooru," he continues, not giving the other room to speak, "if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to leave."  
  
    "So impatient," Oikawa murmurs, returning to his old self in the blink of an eye, that little smile transforming once more into a grin that sends shivers down Akaashi’s spine. "Whatever you want, my little prince."  
  
    Akaashi shudders, arches up in an attempt to rub his cock between their stomachs, get some kind of relief, but Oikawa is moving then, slow rolls of his hips that tease at what Akaashi wants and Akaashi gives up on his attempt, eyes fluttering closed once more.  
  
    Slick, wet sounds begin to fill the room as Oikawa fucks him — long, languid, lazy thrusts of his hips that chip away at Akaashi’s earlier resolve to be quiet. He can hear himself as Oikawa picks up speed, little sharp inhales of breaths and soft moans, hiccups, his own cock aching, curved up between them.  
  
    "Tooru," Akaashi gasps out, but Oikawa doesn’t answer. He rocks harder into Akaashi, a delicious burn from the push and pull building in the pit of Akaashi’s stomach. The creak and groan of the bed smothers whatever noises leave Akaashi’s lips and the shadows pool in the dips and curves of Oikawa’s body when Akaashi cracks his eyes open to look at him, constructing a picture of light and dark.  
  
     _"Beautiful,"_ Akaashi can’t help but think, somewhere in a deep part of his thoughts. Oikawa is beautiful, but not hard to look at now, like this — not too bright that Akaashi has to look away.  
  
    "Shit," Akaashi whines, breath broken, when Oikawa thrusts into him a little harder than before, his back arching up off of the mattress. His fingers itch to wrap around his cock, to fuck his hand, his vision hazy. He’s so hot, burning up, legs splayed wide, bangs sticking to his forehead.  
  
    And he wants to feel the bite of Oikawa’s teeth again, but Oikawa has made no move yet to do what he said he wanted.  
  
    "You’re so perfect," Oikawa breathes then amidst the other noises filling the room. His eyes shine in the gloom, lower lip pulled between his teeth, stomach flexing as he snaps his hips. "So perfect, Keiji."  
  
    Akaashi moans, loud, the words going straight to his cock. He flexes his hands against Oikawa’s grip, hips jerking.  
  
    "Tooru, _please_ ," he keens. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for any more, just that he can feel the edge rushing forward, waiting to swallow him whole.  
  
    Oikawa jerks, cursing under his breath, hips stuttering — and then he’s letting go of Akaashi’s wrists, bracing both hands on either side of Akaashi’s head, pulling all of the way out and slamming back in.  
  
    Akaashi loses his ability to speak, to think even. All he can feel are the flames licking over his skin, the tightness in his stomach, the brush of Oikawa’s stomach against his cock — not nearly enough. Everything is hot and slick and perfect, sweat beading over Akaashi’s skin, a sheen over Oikawa’s. Oikawa fills him up completely, cock hot and thick and hitting the spot that has Akaashi biting into his lower lip hard enough to taste copper.  
  
    Akaashi reaches up with his free hands, digs his nails into Oikawa’s back. He lifts his legs finally, wraps them around Oikawa’s waist, lets Oikawa fuck into him over and over again, stars exploding behind his eyelids.  
  
    All other thoughts besides Oikawa’s words from before leave his head.  
  
   _"To mark you, show everyone else that -"_  
  
     _"Mine,"_ Akaashi thinks.  
  
    And then he’s cumming, untouched and all over his stomach, hips jerking, a broken moan leaving his mouth. His brain short-circuits, that one word flitting away with the crushing wave of pleasure.  
  
    Oikawa hisses something under his breath but Akaashi can’t hear it over the ringing in his ears, can just feel his orgasm shake through him, can feel Oikawa still filling him up.  
  
    The other continues to fuck into Akaashi desperately, once, twice, three times until Akaashi feels one long, slow shudder roll through him, his thrusts faltering as he follows.  
  
    And then there’s nothing but the sounds of their heavy breathing, the distant rumble of traffic outside the window, the hum of the fridge through the thin wall between the kitchen and the bedroom.  
  
    Akaashi cracks his eyes open, lets Oikawa go so the other can pull out carefully, lift himself up and off to dispose of the condom and grab a wet washrag from the bathroom.  
  
    Then he lets them flutter closed again, waiting for Oikawa to return, lets his body sink farther into the mattress and inhales cherry smoke.  
  
    He can’t help but notice that no marks adorn his skin.  
  
    When Oikawa returns, Akaashi watches him, studies the angles of his collarbones, the long length of his legs. He lets Oikawa wipe him down and massage his wrists and then help him up so he can balance on weak knees as Oikawa changes the sheets quickly, tossing the soiled ones in a crumpled heap on the bathroom floor.  
  
    And then Oikawa is pulling him back into bed, helping him under the covers and sliding in beside him.  
  
    It’s at that moment that Akaashi can’t help but be hit by a terrifying thought. Surely he hadn’t said "Mine" out loud earlier, when the word had flashed through his head. His heart skips a beat.  
  
    He can’t have said it out loud. Not yet.  
  
    But Oikawa derails all of that with two simple words, uttered in the small space between them, his body warm and wrapped around Akaashi’s.  
  
    "My turn," he breathes, his grin flashing in the dim bedroom — and Akaashi can’t help but laugh then, quiet and hushed, relief flooding him.  
  
    "Okay," he answers, smiling when he feels Oikawa’s nose nuzzle into the side of his neck.  
  
    And at the first press of Oikawa’s mouth to his skin, Akaashi thinks that he may be flying too close to the sun — but that someday the sun will be his.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of Kinktober2018 - Biting/Marking
> 
> So here's my first contribution to Kinktober this year! I hope you all enjoy the AkaOi<33
> 
> As always, please visit my blog [here](http://oisugasuga.tumblr.com/)!


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